


It’s only Sorta Spooky . . .

by Skyboltt



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-23 07:00:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 3,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16153991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyboltt/pseuds/Skyboltt
Summary: I couldn’t decide what poem type to do so I did three with the same theme. Haiku, Limerick and Sonnet. Hopefully I got it right.





	1. Trapped

I look up and all I see is glass

I remember being outside  
The feel of the sun's gentle warmth on my skin  
The breeze scented with growing things  
Being able to go where I chose, the master of my own fate

I remember the people  
Running past carrying tools of creation and destruction  
Clothed in metal yet impossibly fast  
Passing me by on their way through the forest

I remember the man  
He came to me with the thing I desired most  
Clutched in his hand, the one thing I was powerless to resist  
Fragrant and golden, their siren call leading me on 

I remember the building  
Made of dirt, a black and gold tower gleaming in front  
The man walked through the front  
The portal open, beckoning

I remember the hole  
It dominated the floor, a pit with no way out  
I didn’t want to go but what I wanted most was tossed in  
I had no choice but to follow

I remember the sounds  
Softly thumping as the four blocks appeared over my head  
The smooth dirt crunching under my feet as I paced  
My new home

And now, 

I look up all I see is glass


	2. Possession

It was the sixth day. 

He couldn’t get the image out of his head no matter how hard he tried. It was there when he dreamed, stalking him with slow relentless menace. He had lost count of the times when he jolted awake sweating and panicked. The last uninterrupted night’s sleep was a distant memory. All he knew was that if he didn’t figure out what was going on he was going to lose it. Scrubbing his hands across his face he glanced over to see a piece of white paper and a pencil. Maybe if he drew it out he could purge whatever was bothering him. 

It was the eighth day. 

He had been forced to buy a sketchbook to contain the drawings. It was already half full. The same figure over and over lunging, snarling, clawing the air. At least he could use one pen until it ran out of ink and he had to get a new one. He had tried different colors early on but the only one that seemed right was black. On the bright side his sleeping had improved. He was managing three hour blocks now. His fingers twitched toward the pen sitting atop his sketchbook. The image called. 

It was the eleventh day. 

Sketching was no longer therapeutic - it was a compulsion. He was on his third sketchbook with two more blank ones ready and waiting. Sleep had deteriorated again.He could see it when he closed his eyes. The pen was again in his hand. 

It was the fourteenth day. 

He no longer left the house. Amazon delivered any necessities he needed and the various food delivery services took care of his meals. He can’t help it, he has to draw. Pausing for short periods is fine - taking a shower, eating, snatching all too short naps. Too long and the anxiety begins. At first it’s an itch in the back of the brain but if ignored becomes more and more dominant until it’s all you can think about. Then comes the pain, the hand cramps, the blurry vision. It’s only when pen met paper that he felt somewhat better. Of course that was its own type of hell. Two weeks since he had started drawing and still the image was the same. Always the same. He no longer doubted he was going crazy.

It was the sixteenth day. 

Two of his work friends had checked in on him earlier but he had played it off as a stomach flu. Did his best to sound sick. Hopefully they bought it. Lately the focus of the sketches had changed. Today it was eyes. Pages and pages of slitted pupils staring at him. They almost seemed to track him as he turned the pages to start again. He could swear he heard something. It sounded like a knock at the door. 

It was the eighteenth day. 

It took them a bit to get in the house since he wouldn’t answer the door but they made it. They saw the drawings. Tried to stop him but he had to fight back, he had to. That was probably what convinced them he needed help. The room was small and sparse, just the bed in the corner. He tried to remember how he had come here but the whole thing was blurry. They took his pen and paper first. The urge to draw had hit so strongly he couldn’t stop screaming so he was pretty sure they had sedated him. He could feel it now, getting stronger as the drug wore off. He had to draw the creature, he didn’t have time to explain why before the pain became too great. He still wasn’t sure himself and until he knew what had possessed him to do this there was no way he could explain it to another. The itch was edging towards unbearable. The featureless walls offered no hope or insight, the smooth concrete a blank canvas with nothing to focus on. 

Blank canvas. 

He just needed something to draw with. There was something he could use if he could just find a way to get at it. Turns out it didn’t take too much effort to create a small cut on his finger and now he had his ink. There was so much wall to cover. The eyes were there, judging, demanding. He knew what he needed to do.


	3. Silence

Heed my warning, heed it well  
For those who didn’t paid the price  
Ignore me at your own peril  
Or you’ll become the sacrifice  
Many a time I’ve told my tale  
And just as many been dismissed  
I’ll tell you the same, for without fail  
Ignorance brings about Death’s kiss  
Beware the silence for then it comes

 

It makes its home in darkest night  
When shadows fall across the land  
Green eyes two shining points of light  
The only warning doom’s at hand   
Walls cannot keep the thing at bay  
Locks will not serve to keep it out  
At best they only will delay  
The nightmare beast prowling without   
Beware the silence for then it comes

 

Three times it came without a sound  
Three deaths left in its silent wake  
The dawning of each morning found  
There was another grave to make  
The crickets did not make their chirp  
No dog gave out a warning bark  
Not even mice going to their work  
Made scritching noises in the dark  
Beware the silence for then it comes

 

The first night we were unaware   
That sudden death had come to call  
No sounds of struggle filled the air  
No marks or scratches on the wall  
The second night we barred the door  
With many chains and planks of wood  
But doom came like it did before  
Our best defense had done no good  
Beware the silence for then it comes

 

The third night we were down to two  
And vowed we would not fall asleep  
But as the night continued through  
That vow we found we couldn’t keep  
When I woke I saw with fear  
That two had been reduced to one  
I knew then that my death was near  
For that night I was surely done  
Beware the silence for then it comes

 

By evening I was quite resigned  
To what I knew would be my fate   
I began to sing to pass the time  
And lighten up the gloomy wait  
The hours of the night dragged on  
And still I sang into the gloom  
Until the light of the new dawn  
Dispelled the darkness in the room  
Beware the silence for then it comes

 

“There’s no way!” I can hear you say  
“That singing caused the beast to flee!”  
The fact that I am here today  
Is all the proof you need to see  
So I will caution you once more  
And hope you listen with great care   
Silence is what you must abhor  
You’ll only find disaster there  
Beware the silence for then it comes


	4. Dusk

Gavin! You have to stop him! Press the button, Gavin, press the butt- . . . .” Trevor’s voice crackled over the earpiece before fading into static. 

Gavin giggled for a moment before looking down at the big glowing red button (Why were doomsday buttons always _red?!_ ). Orange lights flashed across the control panel directly in front of him casting an eerie glow in the dimly lit room. Taking a deep breath he slammed his hand down. Sounds of heavy machinery powering down filled the air and bright white fluorescent light filled the control room. For a moment there was silence and then the speakers mounted in the corner came to life. 

“Very good! You Dusk Boys certainly live up to your reputations. I knew you would make this far but did you really think you could shut down this facility that easily?”

Doors slammed shut and Gavin heard the hiss of air as they were sealed. Fans set flush with the concrete walls began to whir. 

“I admit it was very entertaining to watch but I’ve got much more important matters to see to. I’m afraid this is the last time we’ll talk. The oxygen is getting a little low isn’t it?”

Now that it had been called to his attention Gavin could feel a slight effort to draw a deeper breath. The fans increased in speed the soft whir becoming a steady hum. 

He knew he shouldn’t, that he needed to save air to buy the time to find a way out, but Gavin couldn’t resist. “You bastard!” he yelled above the deep amused chuckle emerging from the speakers, “You won’t get away with this!”

The laughter died away, “Come now, stop sounding like a bad super hero movie. This isn’t Hollywood and there isn’t going to be a last minute rescue. Now please accept your fate and die like a good nuisance.” The speaker clicked off leaving the room in silence except for the spinning blades. 

The first thing he did was attempt to find a weakness in the doors. Smooth metal greeted him perfectly fitted and sealed. He was starting to become aware of his breathing. The computer terminal had gone dark, the console it was seated in smooth and seamless. No luck there either. Looking around the room there wasn’t really anything to use as a weapon an oversight he knew he wouldn’t make a second time. There wouldn’t be a second time. 

Each breath came labored now. Gavin sat down on the floor with his back against the door trying to take shallow breaths. 

_This can’t be it. I can’t die trapped in a little closet from no oxygen. Seriously?! Of all the useless . ._

The pain in his chest as his lungs struggled to draw in enough air was becoming overwhelming. The edges of his vision began to fuzz. He couldn’t stand now even if he wanted to. He had to accept that there really was no last min rescue, no joking about close calls or victory snatched from defeat. 

Gavin closed his eyes right before unconsciousness pulled him down into eternal darkness . . .

 

_Mrgwmph!_

Pressure. On his face. A face that was surprisingly warm and itchy. 

_Itchy?!_

Gavin opened his eyes and was immediately rewarded with a vision of a blurry tan wall. It only took a few seconds to make the connection when the wall twitched. 

“Smee! What are you doing you menace?!”

Smee lept off of Gavin’s face and sauntered across the room his tail in the air. He turned back looking far too smug than a Siamese had a right to look before exiting the room. Gavin sat in bed for a moment getting his breath back and contemplating the dream he just had. 

_Bloody Hell. I’ve done way too much traveling lately._

Shaking his head, Gavin stood up and went in search of Meg. At least it was the weekend.


	5. Corrupt

It was just so satisfying. How it felt sliding down your throat. The warm sensation of it in your stomach. Extracting each delicate morsel from their psyche. The tendrils of thought pulling away like sinews being ripped from the bone, tearing away one strand at a time. Bits of pain drifting off into the aether like blood diffusing into water. He shivered in anticipation of the coming feast. And best of all no one had any idea it was happening, in fact they wanted to be around you. They told you what a positive person you were, how much better they felt from being around you. 

It took a delicate hand to help engineer depression, sorrow, and anger without anyone knowing. Creativity certainly helped and as long as the negative emotions were short lived what was the harm? So much of the artist was poured into their work the emotions practically leapt out at you. You could even get the right reactions from being particularly irritating. He had found that out a year and a half ago and it was the gift that kept on giving. There was even animation about it now. Coming to this world has been the most rewarding decision. Finding this company had been a godsend. The possibilities were endless and nobody even knew they were being fed upon. 

Jack walked into the Achievement Hunter office to find the other five at their desks. He was excited for the content that they were planning to shoot. Emotions always ran high when they filmed Destiny. He could feel it. Today was going to be an amazing day. Jack edged around Ryan to stand in front of his desk, set his water bottle down and turned to the rest of Achievement Hunter. 

“So who’s ready to do the raid?”


	6. Unlucky

Geoff wasn’t usually the first person on set to film Heroes and Halfwits but today he'd had an incredibly early meeting so there he was. Sitting on the stool and waiting for the other five. At least the relative quiet was good for checking emails. He started throwing a 20 sided die to pass time while scrolling through his phone. 

13\. . . . 5 . . . 18 . . . . .15 . . . 1

Just for fun, and in memory of the World Famous Bard he decided to throw a wild magic roll. Using his phone he quickly pulled up an image of the wild magic table. Scooping up two d10 dice he shook them quickly and cast them on the table. 97 

It wasn’t difficult to find the magic effect. You are surrounded by faint, ethereal music for the next minute. He imagined it was like the music currently coming out of the broadcast room. It didn’t sound like anything the guys would listen to and after a moment he dismissed it as unimportant and returned to his dice. 

10 . . .7. . .3 . . . .13 . . 20

Another roll turned up 67. You are frightened by the nearest creature until the end of your next turn. He glanced around but was still alone, nobody else had arrived yet. He’d have to make sure to bring it up several times. Especially to Gus. 

“Geoff you have to help me!” Trevor’s panicked tone caused Geoff to look up in alarm. He was terrified and clearly trying to run away from something. “Please!”

Reaching out to put a hand on Trevor’s shoulder Geoff gently pushed Trevor onto one of the stools positioned around the large table. “Whoa, calm down there Trevor. What’s wrong?”

“Andy! He’s after me! I have to get away from here!”

“Andy? What did Andy to to you?” Geoff glanced over Trevor’s shoulder to see Andy walking over to the set with a slow measured pace, a confused expression on his face. Trevor, followed his gaze.

Under Geoff’s hand Trevor began to tremble. “No! Get away from me!” He backed up slowly before turning and running from the set, the sound of his footsteps quickly fading. Andy hurried over to Geoff, confusion changing to concern. 

“Did he say anything to you?”

“No man, he said he had to get away but that was it. Something happen between you two?”

“I have no idea. One minute he was fine then he looked at me and freaked out. I don’t know what happened.”

“That’s weird. See if you can get a few people to help calm him down. You might have to stay out of sight for a bit judging by what just happened.”

“Right.”

Andy quickly left in search of help but the whole encounter left Geoff feeling uneasy. Trevor was level headed and had no previous issues with Andy. Maybe he was stressed or something. Geoff resolved to see what he could pick up for a little to help with the workload. He knew how it could be. 

“Hi Geoff. Where’s everyone else?” Michael walked up to the table carrying a Red Bull. Reaching over to the cabinet behind Geoff he snagged a clean goblet and set it in the holder built into the table. He popped the can, pouring the amber liquid into the empty cup, and looked expectantly at Geoff.

“Not sure but they should get here soon.” He continued to roll. 2 . . . 18 . . . 4 . . . 13 . . 20

“What are you doing?”

“Checking emails and throwing some wild magic rolls. If I start something important they”ll immediately show up. On second thought maybe I should. ” 70 

“What’s that one?”

Geoff checked the table. “Each creature within 30 ft of you becomes invisible for the next minute.”

“We could have used that at one point.”

“It was way funnier the other way. Content man.” Geoff set his phone on the table and looked around. The set was empty. “Michael? Where?” In the meantime Geoff continued to roll. 5 . . .19 . . . 16 . .8 . .1

The two d10 dice clattered to the table. 83. Geoff scrolled through the list of wild magic effects. Every creature within 30 ft of you takes 1d10 necrotic damage. Absentmindedly Geoff picked up a d10 and rattled it around in his hand. 

“GEOFF! Michael screamed out.

“Jesus Michael, I’m right here. You don’t have to yell. Where did you go anyway? One second we were talking and the next you left.”

“I didn’t go anywhere. I've been trying to get your attention but you refused to acknowledge I was even here.” 

Fingers opened, releasing the die and casting it to the table. “The set was empty man, nobody was here.”

“Of course I was here. It's not like I just vanished or turned invisible.”

Warning bells went off in Geoff’s head. On the polished wood the die rolled to a stop.


	7. Shriek

Working on catching up


	8. Wither

Working on catching up


	9. Creature

_They told us that they couldn’t go back._

__

_They said it was broken beyond use._

__

_They claimed there was no way to fix it._

__

__

_They lied._

__

__

Deep in the bowels of the earth beneath the city it waited for their return. It was patient, there was no rush. After all it had five years invested in this world, it could wait a few more. The outcome was inevitable and the only variable was time. 

Snippets of memory drifted across its consciousness. . . . 

_WHAT ARE WE DOING?_

__

__

_One! Two! Three! Four!_

__

__

_You guys are real dumb._

__

__

The ghosts of the past echoed through the silence, shadows of the life that once thrived in the city. It remembered the laughter, the games, the good natured insults. 

The fear. 

It never meant for them to find where it made its home. Things were supposed to go on much the same as it always had. The men would come and capture their adventures, rip them apart and stitch them back together to give to others. In return it fed on their essence. After a time it felt the joy in this world ebb from the men but still they came, committed to their craft. 

Then they found it. 

It was the ragged man. Constantly digging into the earth, driving tunnels and chambers where they shouldn’t be. He broke through the protective barrier before he could be stopped. It could sense the ragged man’s confusion and curiosity, reached out to calm them. That was its mistake. The man felt its touch and reacted with panic and terror. Somehow he instinctively knew that it was there to consume them. He fled, his mind filled with warning and shortly after they all left. And never returned. 

And so it waited. 

It was really only a matter of time, after all if they really wanted to they could have destroyed this world. But no, they wouldn’t, couldn’t, erase this place. Foolish sentiment. The time would come when memory faded enough for them to try again. For now it would wait and remember with fondness the times gone by. . . 

_You guys are fucked. I’ve had time, oh such time._

__

__

_You’re free! You’re free! Run bitch!_

__

__

_As soon as he gets quiet you should start looking._

__

__

They would come back. Its patience would be rewarded.  
And when they did it would feed but not like before, oh no. This time it would drain them completely and all at once. They would not get the chance to leave it again. Eventually they will return and then?

The feast begins.


	10. Dismember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I couldn’t decide what poem type to do so I did three with the same theme. Haiku, Limerick and Sonnet. Hopefully I got it right.

Tearing into flesh  
Ripping leg from the body  
Lunchtime for AH

 

There once was an office of green  
Whose occupants caused quite a scene  
Of cooked flesh they did eat  
There was oh so much meat   
Since it was barbecue though no one stayed clean

 

 

Only loud chewing sounds filled the air  
Bones scattered around the whole room  
Tearing limbs off without any care  
Cooked flesh giving off its perfume

No carcass was left without claim  
For the desire to consume was strong  
Not an ounce of the bounty remained  
To be honest it didn’t stay long 

But as meat disappeared from the bone  
With a joy that was second to none  
The time of their resting had flown  
Sadly the feasting was done

Each one then returned to their place  
The only evidence stray sauce on a face

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the SortaSpooky Challenge


End file.
